


a walk in the park

by thunderylee



Category: Hey! Say! JUMP, Japanese Actor RPF, Johnny's Jr., KAT-TUN (Band), NewS (Band), Super Junior
Genre: Canon Universe, Exhibitionism, F/M, M/M, Masturbation, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-20
Updated: 2010-08-20
Packaged: 2019-01-30 09:03:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12650427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: For being the biggest sex icons of their generation, it sure seems like everyone else is getting laid except them.





	a walk in the park

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck. written for je_fqfest 2010.

Years of group baths and lightning-fast costume changes, not to mention growing up in a house with three other boys, has completely desensitized Kamenashi Kazuya to any kind of modesty. He doesn’t bat an eye when someone undresses, even walks around naked, nor does he have any apprehensions about doing it himself.

Ten years in KAT-TUN have basically desensitized him to _everything_. He’s heard every insult, derogatory term, and grotesque situation. He’s seen gory cannibal movies and BDSM pornos. There was even one time they don’t talk about involving a donkey.

Nothing surprises him anymore. It makes life a little boring.

At least his drama roles are exciting, sometimes. In his latest one, he plays a psychotic stalker who is after his old high school homeroom teacher. The whole concept amuses him more than anything else, particularly since the actress who plays his ex-teacher keeps making inappropriate jokes off-set referencing Gokusen and her ‘precious students’.

He’s heard that Mizukawa Asami is a blast to work with, but this makes him actually want to be her friend. They have lunch together and sometimes another member of his group joins them; contrary to popular belief, Kame doesn’t hate them _all_ the time and sometimes gives a shit about their personal business.

He vaguely recalls Nakamaru joining them on one of these outings, quite possibly that’s why he sees him fucking her into the wall behind their filming location. It has to be Nakamaru; nobody else would be seen in public wearing that awful argyle sweater-vest regardless of whether it’s a dark back alley or not. At least his pants are all one color, even if they’re currently pooled around his ankles.

This falls into the category of ‘things that should elicit a reaction but don’t’, although Kame can’t actually bring himself to look away. He’s more curious than anything, not because there is someone having sex right in front of him but because it’s _Nakamaru_. Possibly Kame might still be in character, after hours of staring creepily at Asami it seems natural to continue, and that might be a logical excuse if he was actually ogling her breasts or something. The one that’s exposed is covered entirely by Nakamaru’s big hand anyway.

Ten years in KAT-TUN and fourteen with two older brothers, and never once has he actually watched something like this live. He’s had plenty of sex of his own, of course, but there was usually at least one other person and he was always too involved to just sit and watch. This feels completely different than any of those times anyway, along with any AV movie he’s seen. Because he _knows_ them, both of them, and to be honest Nakamaru is the last person he would expect to be fucking _anyone_ , let alone a hot woman his age like Mizukawa Asami.

Kame must admit, that guy is doing a pretty good job holding his own. And her, actually, with both of her legs wrapped around his waist and one hand steady on her hip. The way he’s got her angled allows Kame to see _everything_ , right down to the condom that shines as it plunges in and out of her. Kame’s a little mesmerized at the sight, eyes locked on where it disappears over and over again, going faster as the pair’s breaths speed up and become audible. Nakamaru grunts with his exhales and it’s kind of arousing, coupled with the thrill of being caught just standing there out in the open, whether by either of them or a random passerby.

Voyeurism is one of those kinks that a person doesn’t realize they have until they experience it, he supposes. He feels himself start to get hard and strategically places his messenger bag in front of him to cover it, mentally scrolling his cell phone’s contact list for a quick fuck. It’s not that late and he has a lot of female friends who don’t mind the benefits, that’s really all one can manage in the entertainment industry these days, and Kame prides himself on being incredibly discreet. He hasn’t been caught yet, anyway.

He’d been hoping to add Asami to the list of past costars he keeps on speed-dial for this very reason, but it’s obvious that her interests are elsewhere. And even if they’re not, he can’t bring himself to be sloppy seconds to _Nakamaru_ of all people. Akanishi was unavoidable but Nakamaru, definitely not.

On the way to his phone, Kame’s fingers brush over the bulge in his pants and he instantly forgets all plans that require actually waiting for gratification. He’s never been good at self-control, as anyone who reads the tabloids knows, but he’s smart enough to duck into the shadows before shoving his hand down his pants and letting out a silent hiss as his cock throbs in his hold. For a second he’s paranoid that he lost his perfect view but now it seems to be even better from where he has dropped to his knees, holding himself up on the same wall Nakamaru is fucking Asami into just a few feet away.

He can see up Asami’s skirt now, notices the swollen clit between the bare lips that Nakamaru has spread open and wonders if the oldest member of his group is going to do anything with it, if he even knows how. Kame’s the youngest but his tongue darts out impulsively, fantasies of closing the distance between them and _helping_ his bandmate out dancing behind his eyes.

A choked moan calls him back to reality and it’s from Asami, her back arching and her head leaning back as Nakamaru seems to be reading Kame’s mind, his hand dropping between Asami’s legs and the pad of his middle finger flicking against the small bump. Her breast is visible now, nipple hardening from the night breeze, and Kame can see her inner muscles contract around the cock that pushes into her faster.

He stuffs his fist into his mouth just in time to come all over his hand and the back of his messenger bag, his mind too diluted to be annoyed at having to clean it up. He might have let out a faint noise but it appears to have gone unnoticed to the other two who are clearly too involved in each other to realize that they are not alone. Nakamaru’s forehead is sweating and his face is all scrunched up, Asami’s mouth hanging open as her head bounces with each thrust. Despite being sated, Kame continues to watch with interest as Nakamaru brings her off with his hand, making her cry out into the night as her body rocks in orgasm.

Kame’s a little impressed right about now. With her pleasure taken care of, Nakamaru grabs her by both cheeks of her ass and pounds into her, pressing his sweaty forehead into her shoulder and groaning deeply in a way that has Kame twitching to go again. Before he can think too much about it, though, Nakamaru thrusts into her particularly hard and stills, his fingers groping her flesh as his face distorts one last time.

A smile spreads across Asami’s flushed features as she starts to giggle, and Kame turns away before he becomes nauseous from the post-coital affection. Quietly he wipes off his hand with his handkerchief, fixes his pants, and gets to his feet, casting them one last glance before being on his way. Nakamaru looks exhausted, his arms shaking as he gently puts her down and reaches for his own pants.

Hopefully Kame is out of sight before Nakamaru looks around nervously.

~

This isn’t exactly what Yamapi had in mind when Toma said to meet him at the club later, but hey, he tries to be an open-minded guy. Although this might be the first time he’s ever felt like he’s was wearing _too_ many clothes in public.

Any club that gives him a Doraemon mask upon entry is cool in his book, anyway. Even if he keeps having to politely turn down what looks to be a good mix of girls _and_ boys.

He had no idea that so many people wanted to fuck Doraemon.

It would be a bit presumptuous if he were anywhere else, but being as that was the main activity of the other patrons of this establishment, Yamapi is pretty confident in thinking that’s what they wanted. Not too far down the leather sectional where he settles in, one of the Kamen Riders (Kiva, maybe) has Sailor Mercury bouncing on his lap.

And he’s pretty sure that’s Toma across the room going down on Hello Kitty.

Yamapi casually leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees to get a better look, and confirms that it’s is definitely Toma’s nose sticking out from where he had to push up his Gachapin mask to unleash his tongue. The speed of it has _Yamapi_ squirming, the long tongue that flicks the clit of who Yamapi hopes is Toma’s girlfriend. All he can see of her is what he wouldn’t (shouldn’t) recognize, her sweater pushed up to reveal pale breasts with her skirt around her waist as she leans back on the table, her legs spread like some kind of female buffet.

He notices her short hair and thinks that it has to be her, horror actress Maeda Ai who looks like she could be in a movie right now with the way her body shudders in the strobe light. She was a nice enough girl when Yamapi first met her, full of smiles and youthful energy despite being older than both of them, and Yamapi remembers thinking they were compatible like that.

Clearly he was right. Toma’s fingers twist inside her while his tongue manages to move with her, neither of them paying any mind to their surroundings. Yamapi’s not the only ones with his eyes on them, and it makes him wonder why he’s bothering to be inconspicuous when there’s someone sitting right next to them, obviously watching through his Pikachu mask.

It’s quite an internal battle to stay, not because of the atmosphere but because it’s his longtime friend that has his pants feeling tight. Anonymous as he is, he could jerk off right here and nobody would know. Well, they would _know_ , but they wouldn’t know who he is. _Toma_ wouldn’t know. The thought alone seems liberating and already Yamapi is reaching for his belt while his blood feels like fire coursing through his veins.

Once he gets his hand in his pants, he expects to be approached again and is kind of glad when he isn’t. He’s not one to fuck complete strangers, even in this kind of place. It would be okay if he knew her, a friend or someone he’s worked with before, but even if there was someone like that here, he wouldn’t be able to recognize her.

Besides, he’s _watching_. He considers moving closer but he’s already otherwise preoccupied, his hand around his own flesh that he doesn’t think he could pry away even if someone ripped off his mask and announced his presence. Through the haze of his rapidly distorting mind, he has the foresight to roll on a condom to minimize clean up and leans back on the couch, eyes focused on where the combination of Toma’s saliva and Ai’s arousal sparkles in the club lights.

Nobody seems to be paying him any mind, and he’s only a little bit disappointed. Even so, his senses still prickle at the thrill of doing this in public, unsuspecting to the crowd as a whole in addition to his own good friend, who appears to be oblivious to everything except the pleasure of his girl. Ai writhes and arches on the table, her throat visibly moving in what are inevitably choked moans and gasps that are hidden by the mask on her face. Yamapi notices the bulge in Toma’s pants and wonders if he plans on fucking her after he’s done licking her to orgasm, whether he would pull her down onto his lap or crawl onto the table and subsequently between her legs.

Yamapi isn’t really fussed either way, to be honest. The desire to watch Toma fuck hasn’t really penetrated his mind before, but now that it’s there Yamapi is hard-pressed to think of anything else. The oral is nice, along with the shimmer of sweat that covers Ai’s torso as she gets closer, but he’s got his mind set on Toma’s cock slamming into her, her body stretching to accommodate and bouncing with each thrust. Toma would fuck hard, Yamapi thinks. He’s always been direct and to the point like that.

This line of thought begins to bother him a little, then Ai comes with a shriek that transcends club music and is strangely reminiscent of her current genre. Yamapi watches her clit lurch with orgasm and has to squeeze himself to keep from coming with her; he’s not nearly done yet.

From across the room, unknowingly, Toma seems to be echoing his thoughts, pulling his still-shuddering girlfriend into his lap backwards so that her assets can still be appreciated by their audience. Yamapi can’t see it but he imagines that Toma’s wearing a smirk behind that mask, displaying for the entire room what only he can touch. Ai’s nipples still perk out while she rides Toma’s fingers, which remain stationary but crooked for her to make them hit her where she wants it as Toma rushes to unfasten his belt and sheath himself with a condom, one-handed.

Yamapi’s a little bit impressed. Not just at the multitasking, but at Toma’s size. But Ai is clearly used to it and takes it all at once, her hands resting on his spread-out knees for balance as they begin to fuck in unison. She pushes back while Toma pushes up and it works, Yamapi’s theory proving true as Toma forgoes slow and loving in favor of fast and hard.

Ai is visibly approving of this, her body shaking with each pound of her boyfriend deep inside her. Yamapi can see him bottom out, angling into her just right for her body to tense up and come again. Hands firmly on her hips, he guides her when she starts to lose her rhythm and fucks her properly from where he sits.

It’s killing Yamapi not to come yet he keeps torturing himself, stroking just slow enough to make his own body tremble with want while Toma carries on like he has all the stamina in the world. Yamapi makes it until Toma jerks off-beat before his world explodes, a low groan erupting from his throat as he finally gives in and fists himself to completion. His own skin feels hot all over; it’s one of the most intense orgasms he’s ever had, for a multitude of reasons.

He opens his eyes just in time to see Toma still going strong, his hands tightening on Ai’s hips in the undeniable stance of release. A faint growl can be heard and Yamapi’s sated senses perk up at the sound, fighting to keep his eyes open as Toma slips out of Ai and pulls her into his arms, gently caressing her thighs and utilizing a nearby towel to clean her up.

Then he reaches for his phone and Yamapi’s next question is answered by a buzzing in his pocket. He thinks Toma must be wondering where he is, why he hasn’t mailed to announce his arrival yet-

_Did you enjoy the show? ^^_

Gachapin is staring directly at him now, and Yamapi’s sweat turns cold.

He nods once, involuntarily, and Toma’s next message is accompanied by a playful smack from Ai.

_She has a sister, if you’re interested._

Cursed by his morals, Yamapi packs up his business and politely bows out. Besides, he has filming in the morning and once was enough to completely wipe him out.

And it may be awhile before he can look Toma in the eye again.

~

Nishikido Ryo prides himself on being a good senior. He may not look the same anymore, but he still remembers all of the older members of the agency who treated him well when he was younger, and he wants to provide that same support and influence to the next generation.

If nothing else, the juniors are the only ones who actually look at him with any kind of respect anymore, because everyone his age and older still remembers cute baby-faced Ryo-chan who didn’t hit puberty until he was twenty years old. He can instill the fear of god in them all he wants, but very few of them actually take him seriously.

He sees a lot of himself in Yamada Ryosuke. The JUMP member may not be the most fawned upon of his group, but he still knows what it’s like to try to grow up in an industry that wants him to be a little boy forever. Ryosuke is fortunate enough to be taller, passing aside the fact that this applies to nearly everyone his age (something must be in the water these days, Ryo thinks bitterly), but he’s still got awhile to go before he can cross the line between cute and _sexy_. At least in the media’s eyes.

Ryo wants to be a good senior, but he doesn’t recall any of _his_ seniors ever driving around aimlessly while he and his girlfriend made out in the backseat. How old are they, anyway? The last thing Ryo needs is to be busted for any kind of perversion. He vaguely knows of Ryosuke’s girl, Shida Mirai – she’s nice enough even if she reminds him a little bit of Tegoshi – and he feels like a creeper when his eyes dart up to the rearview mirror (to check the traffic behind him, of course) and see her smirking up at Ryosuke before pulling him back towards her mouth.

The natural thing to do is just to point his rearview mirror down. Now he gets to see his own hand gripping the gear shift, which doesn’t do much to for his sanity because now he has visible proof of how anxious he is. Over two seventeen-year-olds fooling around in his backseat.

They’re definitely fooling around, too; Ryo hears the sounds of hands on fabric, choked moans on lips, his fingers tightening on the steering wheel to keep from jerking at the shameful way his body reacts. He usually isn’t that mindful of the noises around him but he’s practically straining his ears, staring unseeingly at the empty road ahead of him while all of his focus is on his sense of hearing and trying to decipher what his cute baby-faced junior is doing to his cute baby-faced girlfriend.

Or the other way around, judging by the way Mirai seems to be the more aggressive of the pair. Ryo thought he had noticed something odd in her eyes when they picked her up earlier, the way she kept glancing at Ryosuke like she knew a secret, and apparently she did. Now Ryosuke’s the one who’s groaning low in his throat, accompanied by some shifting around and Ryo thinks that they’re laying down now, Mirai towering over him with her hair falling on either side of her face and her skirt riding up her thighs as she straddles Ryosuke’s lap.

Ryo wonders if her hands are in his pants, kicks himself for turning down the rearview mirror, even if it’s dark enough that he probably wouldn’t be able to see anything unless they happened upon a strong streetlight. He’s just driving around, killing time because they both live with their parents and this is the only time they can be alone, and Ryo can respect that. Ryosuke filled his gas tank earlier and bought him dinner, and Ryo had some shopping to do while the kids were at the movies anyway.

Thinking about them as ‘kids’ now is kind of disturbing, particularly since the speed of their breaths has quickened to the pace where Ryo considers tossing them a condom from his stash in the console. He remembers Ryosuke saying that they haven’t done it yet, despite months of dating Mirai wanted to wait, and Ryo recalls feeling proud that Ryosuke could honor her wishes like that. Now it appears that he’s being rewarded for his patience, in the backseat of Ryo’s car.

There is some hushed whispering behind him, and Ryo gets chills when he hears the undeniable crinkle of foil. A thousand possibilities fly through his head – he could park somewhere unpopulated and go for a walk, buy them a room at a love hotel, even drop them off at his apartment and find something else to do for an hour or so – but all he does is crank up the radio and crack his window to light up a smoke, his wordless approval. He’s miles away from civilization anyway, and it’s too hot to be anywhere but in an air-conditioned car, even if his back windows are starting to steam up.

The radio may be loud but Ryo can still hear them, whether he’s imagining it or not that’s definitely Mirai’s gasp as Ryosuke touches her somewhere, probably getting her ready for him. Their kissing becomes sloppy and therefore audible, an afterthought as they’re both focused on coming together for the first time. Ryo’s not sure if Ryosuke’s a virgin but he wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case, either way he won’t be for much longer as the car starts to rock from the way Mirai’s body reacts.

Ryosuke hisses out her name, and that’s when Ryo knows that he’s inside her. It makes him squirm to think about; despite the closeness of both of his groups, nobody has actually had sex in his car with him present before. It might be easier to accept if he could see them, maybe treat it like a dirty porno and not one of his favorite juniors with his girlfriend, because the fact that he can only _hear_ them seems to make it worse.

It doesn’t help that she’s loud enough to match the vocals in the music, her moans shooting down Ryo’s spine and making him hard in seconds. He smokes shakily, the cigarette calming his nerves but doing nothing for his arousal, eyes hard on the painted lines of the street like it requires all of his concentration. Maybe it will be fast, maybe it will be too much and Mirai will make him stop.

Although the thought of them _finishing_ has Ryo twisting his hips to get friction. His pants are tight enough to serve the purpose, even if coming in them would be more shameful than actually whipping out his cock and jerking off, if not safer to do while driving. There may not be any other cars, but he doesn’t need to drive into a tree either. He has _two_ groups that would suffer from management’s wrath if there were anymore at-fault accidents.

Then he hears it, the obvious sound of two people having sex, Mirai’s noises confirming Ryo’s assumption that she just came. What would ordinarily make him cringe just arouses him even more, his cigarette long gone as he tightens both hands on the wheel to keep from reaching down and giving into his overwhelming urge. It doesn’t matter anyway since he’s found a rhythm with rubbing himself against the back of his fly, a hands-free way to get off.

He doesn’t actually think he can stop himself, and all he can hope is that his eyes don’t close for too long when he finally achieves release.

Neither Ryosuke nor Mirai are bothering to be quiet now, both too involved in their efforts to remember their third. Ryosuke’s grunting with every exhale while Mirai moans freely, the close proximity of which tells Ryo that she’s right behind his seat, sitting up straight as she rides. The next time she comes is practically in Ryo’s ear, the resulting twitch in his pants nearly causing him to jerk off the road and that’s when he decides it’s unsafe to keep driving, pulling off onto the side of the road and shifting into park as a large weight lifts off his mind.

The other two don’t appear to notice that the car stopped moving either, although Mirai had to have leaned down because they’re kissing again, heatedly, gasps slipping through their wet lips as they appear to get close. Now stationary, the car moves in time with their rhythm, Ryosuke thrusting up into Mirai with what Ryo imagines to be his hands gripping her hips, pulling her down in tandem.

Ryo can almost feel Ryosuke let go, accompanied by a relieved groan, and Ryo’s right behind him with his fist in his mouth.

The aftermath would be awkward if Mirai didn’t start giggling, setting off Ryosuke and finally Ryo, whose attention is forced away by the threat of lovesick cuddling. He turns back into the freeway, returning to their town and trying to remember if there were any ice cream places on the way.

A good senior treats his junior after a good performance, after all.

~

Hawaii seems a lot different when coming from the east. Jin’s not sure if it’s the timezones or what, but he feels wide awake in the middle of the night even after being on a plane for several hours. It’s only half past midnight but it’s three-thirty in the morning to him, nearly five by the time he gets to the hotel and checked in.

He’s not scheduled to meet up with the others until the afternoon, giving them a little over a day to prepare for the concert. Jin wonders if he can talk them into having their first meeting at the beach.

It’s where he heads now, running barefoot in the soft sand like a child towards the dark water that sparkles in the moonlight. The beach in Hawaii is nothing like the beach in Santa Monica, even if the water is technically the same. He has an urge to just jump in and worry about the consequences later, which he may have done if he were younger but the reserved Jin of now just stands at the water’s edge and smiles out into the nothingness.

It feels good to be happy.

A feminine laugh catches his attention and Jin looks around the seemingly empty beach for the culprit. He’s always ready for a party, even with complete strangers, and it’s a little disappointing to see that out of everyone in Hawaii, he has managed to run into one of his own bandmates lounging around on the sand behind some rocks that mostly block him from view.

As Jin gets closer, he sees why. Taguchi isn’t just lounging; there’s a body on top of him with curls falling on either side of her head, covering her face and most of Taguchi’s. Her body is as long and lean as Taguchi’s, her cover-up barely reaching the bump of her naked ass and riding up with every undulation against the man beneath her. Taguchi’s hands are all over her, in her hair and on her ass, ending between her legs and eliciting a sweet sound that has Jin less inclined to cockblock.

He just shakes his head instead. Only Taguchi would fuck an Asian girl in Hawaii. Korean even, Jin amends as the girl turns her head and Jin gets a good look at her face. She is quite pretty, with full lips that would look good around a cock and a sweet voice that would sound good moaning his name.

They’re close enough to the ocean for the tide to wash over them, water dripping from their hair as they laugh and kiss and groan. Whoever this is, she’s moving against Taguchi with intent now, legs clamped around his waist and Jin thinks that if he moves a bit to the left he’ll be able to watch Taguchi push inside her.

Except that when he moves to the left, his eyes grow wide because that’s not a ‘her’ at all; it’s a ‘him’. It has to be, judging by the size of the cock in Taguchi’s hand. Then Jin remembers the face and nearly smacks his hand to his forehead, placing recognition instantly.

This isn’t the first time he’s mistaken Kim Heechul for a girl.

Taguchi is clearly well aware of the circumstances, rolling around on the sand with Heechul’s legs around his waist. Jin wonders how they even know each other, or if this is a completely random meeting. They definitely know each other now, regardless, mouths crushing together while bodies grind like both of them are trying to take control. Jin briefly wonders who would top between them, then realizes that he shouldn’t be concerned with this at all.

Yet he is, mesmerized almost, unable to look away from the sight that makes him uncomfortable and curious at the same time. He watches in some kind of traumatized awe as Heechul pins Taguchi down to the sand, wrists above his head and Taguchi seems to have no qualms with lying beneath the other, his long body stretched out with his bright orange swim trunks and pale chest glowing in the moonlight.

Jin wonders if it still counts as topping if all he does is lay there. Heechul is the one who prepares himself, clasping both of Taguchi’s wrists in one hand while the other relocates between his legs, Jin’s eyes widening as slick fingers disappear into his body. This isn’t to say that Jin is completely innocent in regards to this particular activity, but it’s much different watching it happen right in front of him as opposed to feeling it himself. Something inside him tingles, making him shiver and sweat at the same time, and his initial thought is whether he can make it back to the hotel room before jerking off.

Although doing it right here becomes the more favorable option as Heechul’s moan echoes in the tide. In the back of his mind, Jin blames those damn androgynous Koreans even as he sinks to his knees behind a particularly large rock and shoves his hand down his shorts. He wishes he could do more, ease the yearning inside himself, but he’s not about to do _that_ in public and even if he wanted to, he didn’t think to bring his lube with him to the beach.

He could always steal Heechul’s, if he could find it. Knowing that one, he probably wears it on a chain around his neck. Jin has heard stories.

Seeing with his own eyes is almost as good, he soon learns. Heechul shudders on top of Taguchi and Jin knows that he’s hit that spot inside himself, the one Jin wishes he could reach on his own and pouts with jealousy. Stupid flexible Koreans. Heechul’s fingers move so fast that’s almost hypnotizing, Jin’s hand stroking himself at half of the speed because he wants to hold out for the inevitable sex on the beach, the tide washing over all three of them and soaking Jin’s shorts that are not actually swim trunks and will probably chafe when he tries to walk back to the hotel.

He’ll worry about that later. Thankfully the night air carries his choked moan out to sea when he can’t hold back anymore, although he’s not really that worried about being caught. Right about now he wouldn’t push away anyone who wanted to touch him, even if it was fucking Taguchi.

Fucking Taguchi who’s about to fuck Kim Heechul right in front of him. Jin’s still trying to wrap his mind around this one but he can’t deny that they look good together, kissing sloppily with Heechul’s hair falling around their faces like some kind of shiny curtain. He doesn’t dare to blink as Heechul pulls out his fingers and grips Taguchi by the base of his cock, giving it a quick coat of lube before easing it inside himself. Taguchi arches and moans into the night and it’s almost attractive, Jin returning to slow, firm strokes on himself while imagining himself in Heechul’s place, shamelessly rocking back and forth with a hard cock inside him touching him right where he wants it.

Heechul rides Taguchi like a pro, bouncing and circling his hips and Jin has to give Taguchi some credit for lasting through it all. He may even outlast Jin who keeps gripping himself at the sight of Heechul throwing his head back, his hair flowing behind him like he’s in a shampoo commercial while the moonlight shines off of his flawless face and his noises are carried right towards Jin. Taguchi bucks his hips up, like he needs _more_ , and together he and Heechul meet each other’s efforts until Jin is the one who’s ready to explode from the tension.

It’s Heechul who lets go first, his hand barely around himself before he’s moaning and jerking, and Jin makes it until he sees the translucent drops decorate Taguchi’s chest before his world goes black. He vaguely recognizes the water surrounding him once again, a shiver coursing down his spine as he opens his eyes to see the space in front of him empty, any evidence of there once being a tangle of bodies in the sand completely washed away.

Jin still feels unsatisfied, but it’s worth the wait when he gets back to the privacy of his room with his own lube, pushing his toy deep inside himself while groaning into his pillow. Stupid Taguchi, it’s all his fault; Jin had almost forgotten how good it feels to be fucked like this, something he can’t exactly ask the women of the states to do for him.

It’s a good thing he can always go home.

~

Ten years in KAT-TUN and Kame’s still not used to this, probably because there is so much time between instances and the same people are never involved. And there is usually a large consumption of alcohol prior.

Now that they’re all (for the most part) adults, there is no need for excuses or liquid courage. The way Kame’s eyes narrow at Jin and Yamapi kissing feels familiar, even if it’s something he hasn’t felt it in a long time.

Even if he’s not sure which one he’s jealous of.

Jin seems to expect Kame to yank him away by his hair, laughing in a way that makes Kame even more furious as he takes out his aggression on their kiss. He feels Yamapi’s arms extending to embrace both of them and calms down, both from Yamapi’s possessive hold and the evil things Jin’s tongue is doing in his mouth. Kame has always been easily riled up and this time is no different, hardening against Jin’s thigh as he starts to move involuntarily, and Jin (or possibly Yamapi) pulls him closer until his body settles neatly between Jin’s legs.

This is how Ryo finds them, grumbling about starting without him, and Kame winces as he’s nailed in the back of the head with a bag that undoubtedly contains more lube and condoms. Yamapi pets Kame with concerned eyes and then they’re kissing, Jin’s breath hot on his face and audible as they hitch at Kame grinding down against him.

The mattress bounces as Ryo unceremoniously jumps onto the bed, right on top of Yamapi who makes a deflated noise and lets out something like a giggle in Kame’s mouth. Ryo seems unbothered by their kissing and just latches onto Yamapi’s neck, hands grabbing at all three of them in some kind of twisted greeting as he gets right down to business and starts pointedly tugging at clothing.

It’s a tangle of elbows and jewelry and hair, grunts and groans from all four of them as they try (and fail) to undress. Jin’s the only one that actually ends up naked, legs already pulled up to his chest like the whore he truly is while Kame is shoved to the side in favor of Ryo. He doesn’t really mind because Yamapi is comfortable to lay on, nipping at the back of his neck while he watches Ryo devour Jin with his shirt unbuttoned and his pants halfway down his thighs.

Ryo’s fast, Jin’s easy, and they’re fucking before Kame can even process it. Jin’s hair is splayed out in the pillow in every direction, his back arched and his throat exposed and Kame just wants to lick it, feel the groans form with his tongue. Maybe Ryo would get pissed and pull his hair, maybe Yamapi would take advantage of the ass bent over right in front of him and spank it.

Kame doesn’t do anything, though, because Yamapi is distracting him with his slow touch, his mouth on Kame’s ear while his hands tease around his hips. Kame’s body rocks against the motion and it’s almost embarrassing how his cock is sticking straight up from his open pants, under his shirt that is still completely on, just riding up over his stomach. Behind him, Yamapi is shirtless with his pants still up, judging by the clothed erection that’s digging into Kame’s lower back.

“You haven’t had Ryo-chan before, have you?” Yamapi’s deep voice rumbles into his ear.

Kame’s attention focuses on the man on top of Jin, kneeling between his legs and thrusting hard enough to make Jin bounce with every one. “I haven’t.”

Like he’s psychic, or has impeccable hearing, Ryo’s eyes flash open and glare at the pair of them whispering conspiratorially. “Any time you girls are done with your _foreplay_ ,” he snarks, making it sound like the most ridiculous activity in the world.

“So impatient,” Yamapi says fondly, chuckling when Kame arches in his arms at the first contact made to his length. “It’s better if you build up to it, don’t you think?”

If Kame could speak, he would probably be on Ryo’s side, but for the time being he’s more or less a pile of nerves that is on edge waiting for Yamapi’s touch. First loose fingers wrap around him, like it’s a natural place to rest his hand, then there’s a lazy stroke upwards with a thumb swiping across the head. A pitiful whimper sounds from Kame’s lungs and he can’t even bring himself to be ashamed, he wants it so badly.

In front of them, Ryo and Jin are still going at it like bunnies, a moan tearing from Jin every other breath while Ryo appears to be holding his back. A rare streak of power hunger courses through Kame’s veins as he accepts his challenge – making Ryo scream.

It’s difficult to pull away from Yamapi’s embrace but Yamapi lets him, carelessly flopping to his side next to Jin like they were just laying around watching TV or something. Kame shakes his head and approaches Ryo from behind, sliding his hands down Ryo’s arms and feeling the muscles bulge as they work.

“Don’t just stand there, Kamenashi,” Ryo berates. “ _Do_ something.”

Kame silences him with a firm bite to the back of his neck, which he feels against his chest as Ryo jerks and pulls a sharp moan from Jin with an exceptionally rough thrust. Then Kame pushes down on Ryo’s back, almost disrupting Yamapi’s lazy kissing of Jin’s flushed face as Ryo’s head ends up between Jin’s knees and Yamapi absently reaches up to run his fingers through the short, dark hair.

Ryo’s just as easy as Jin but Kame preps him anyway, making a point to rub the tips of his fingers along the spot that has Ryo choking on his air even as he bitches for Kame to hurry up and be a man. Kame takes his time putting on a condom and lubing himself, smirking at the needy way Ryo pushes back against him until Jin digs his heels into Ryo’s ass and demands his attention.

Enough is enough and Kame grabs Ryo by the hips, pushes inside him and hisses at the tightness. Ryo lets out a faint noise of relief and Kame frowns, gives a rough thrust forward and fills with pride at the realization that he’s controlling _both_ of their pleasures, becoming even more aroused when Ryo arches his back and stretches his throat practically in Kame’s face for him to occupy his mouth with as he moves inside him.

Another strained moan from Ryo and Kame slits open his eyes to see Yamapi’s head in front of them, sporadically licking at Jin’s cock and Jin looks torn between punching him and crying from the lack of contact. Kame watches with minimal interest as Yamapi mouths the head, the shaft visibly twitching for more and it makes Kame fuck Ryo harder, who in turn thrusts deep into Jin and visibly drives him even crazier with the urge to come.

“Pi,” Jin whines, reaching a shaky hand down to tangle in Yamapi’s curls. “Don’t be a tease.”

Yamapi chuckles again but sucks Jin past his lips, taking him all the way in his mouth so fast that Jin’s appreciative moan seems to surprise even him. It gets louder as Ryo gets tighter and Kame goes faster, Jin’s vocals joined with Ryo’s shrill cry as Ryo finishes first, body shuddering between the two who aren’t far behind. Jin rocks his hips up into Yamapi’s mouth and bites down on his lip as he finally stills, which Kame will never admit is what actually sets him off and has him burying himself deep inside Ryo one last time.

He ends up falling to the side, landing on Yamapi who happily accepts him in his lap. His pants are pushed down even more and Kame knows what’s going to happen before Yamapi even touches him, slipping gentle fingers between his legs and slowly stretches him, but he rubs him right where he wants it and Kame’s whining for it by the time Yamapi gets around to moving behind him. He can’t see him at all, just Ryo and Jin in front of him, Ryo fast asleep while Jin looks uncomfortable and Kame plans on relocating them to the jacuzzi tub as soon as Yamapi’s done, which may be _hours_ at rate he’s been going.

But his grunts are rushed in Kame’s ear as he thrusts inside and doesn’t stop, doesn’t go slow and Kame’s world becomes a little disoriented as Yamapi fucks him hard, arms wrapped tightly around him like he would be knocked right off the bed otherwise. There’s no way he could come again but it still feels good to have Yamapi so deep inside him, grazing that spot while clutching onto him and making delicious noises that have Kame more than ready for another round regardless of what his body says.

Yamapi is almost silent when he comes, collapsing behind Kame and passing out much like his bandmate. Kame exchanges a look with Jin, who rolls his eyes and shoves Ryo off of him.

They make out like teenagers in the bath, with the door closed and locked because _some_ things are private.


End file.
